My hand shakes as I reach out to stroke her hair. I close my eyes and will the memories to recede. Will the emotions they inevitably bring to disappear. I am shaken by her offer. I am humbled by the fact she would allow me this intimacy.
It shouldn’t change anything, but in our lifestyle, it simply does. It’s a measure of trust that invariably is withheld. We all hold something of ourselves back. It’s human nature. The easiest is to deny your partner that.
Can I move past my own fears for this woman? Do I want to?
I decide now is not the time to answer that. We have still not confirmed exclusivity.
“You look delightful,” I murmur and receive one of those small but somehow blinding smiles. “Good enough to eat,” I add.
She tips her head to the side, exposing her throat. This is Haydee’s “Yes.”
“Stand up, sweet Haydee,” I order. She rises to her feet in a smooth glide that rocks my soul. “Dinner is booked for nine o’clock, then we’re seeing a late showing of an art house movie at ten-thirty,” I advise.
She says nothing, her eyes on my shoes, her breathing measured and relaxed.
Does she like movies? Will she like the Italian restaurant I have booked us into?
“That leaves well over two hours before we are expected anywhere,” I point out. Her chest rises and falls, bringing my attention to her breasts. They look fuller like this. More than a handful, when I know they are just right. Her nipples strain as goosebumps emerge all over her skin.
Just from my gaze and the sound of my voice.
“What shall I do with you, my pet?” I ask. She doesn’t answer. She is perfect in every way.
I reach out and wrap my hand around the chain as it hangs low by her belly. I can see her belly ring through the sheer material of the bodice. I twist my wrist, ensuring she is tied to me, and then turn away and lead her past my office and toward the formal dining room.
Her soft footfalls bely the fact she is wearing heels. I like that she walks so carefully. I like more the look of her wrapped up in such rich colours inside the darkness of the room I bring her to. The polished mahogany dining table is a long oval with lushly upholstered cream chairs spread out around it. The table’s surface is bare, an invitation to place something upon it. A chandelier burns softly from directly above, illuminating the wood and making reflections dance on it as if a mirror.
I turn to Haydee and note she has not looked up. She won’t until I allow it. Has there ever been a more perfect submissive?
“What do you think?” I ask. “Do you like my dining room?”
The invitation is accepted and she brings her head up, eyes scanning the rich woods and dark curtains, and soft light. She glances at the china cabinet, full of things I have no use for but can’t seem to be rid of. She takes in the artwork. Nondescript and not at all noteworthy, but suggestive all the same. I can stare at those paintings for hours, imagining me in them. Imagining the women depicted under my control.
Her eyes land on the chandelier and a puzzled look sweeps over her face. There one minute and gone the next. Her control of her features is astounding. Her intelligence and quick observation skills is impressive.
“Step up,” I say, leading her to a chair that has been pulled out enough to use as a ladder. She puts one high heeled foot on the cushion of the seat and rises up until she towers over me. I direct her onto the shining surface of the dining table with a simple pull on her chain. “Watch yourself,” I say. “The surface can be slippery.”
She nods and steps, heel up so as not to mark the furniture, into the middle of the table. Her reflection in the table’s surface is mesmerising.
“Kneel,” I instruct. She lowers herself gracefully to her knees, hands clasped casually in front of her.
I bring her chain down and unwrap it from my wrist, then proceed to wrap the length of it around both of hers instead. In seconds her hands are bound, the jewels pressing into sensitive flesh.
“Now, Haydee,” I say. “You know if you struggle you will feel the chain dig in to your skin.”
She nods, eyes calm and speculative. Her pulse has sped up at the base of her throat.
“You remember your safeword?” I ask. This is not a rhetorical question. When asked this a submissive must verbalise their response.
“Yes, sir,” she softly whispers. “Salutem,” she says in a husky voice that sends an immediate jolt of awareness to the base of my cock.
“Good girl,” I murmur, standing up on the chair and taking the ends of her chain with me. I raise her hands above her head and loop the chain over the chandelier. If she moves, the light will sway. And shadows will dance all over her body.
“This is reinforced,” I point out. “You can’t pull it down. The worst that can happen is the chain can break your flesh. Do you want that?”
One shake of her head. She enjoys pain in the pursuit of pleasure, but not blood. A soft limit I am more than willing to appease.
I step down and move to the end of the table, pulling out a chair and then grabbing the bottle of Scotch and a waiting glass off a side table, and then sit down. I pour myself a finger of amber liquid and settle back to enjoy my table setting. Dark eyes watch my every move with a type of controlled hunger that speaks to me.
“Now,” I say, the smoothness of the whisky making my voice sound like rich honey. “Tell me about your wildest sexual fantasy.”
She smiles. My cock shoots rock hard.
And then she starts, taking me with her, drawing me in. Stealing my soul.
“It’s under the stars,” she says. “Out in the open. The night is a dark tapestry of brilliant diamonds, winking in a velvet sky. I’m tied up. I can’t get free but I know I am not in any danger. I wait. It seems like it takes him forever. But there is no doubt in my mind that he will come. I can hear people. They are close, but I cannot see them. I am unsure if they can see me. Their murmurs become whispers and I know he is here. I feel immediately safe at his arrival. Even though he does not release me. Instead he takes his time. Kissing every inch of me, sucking my breasts, biting my nipples, while his hands own my body.
“I’m panting and whimpering, and the voices I hear rise in equal anticipation. I am still unsure if they can see me, but I am unable to stop my reaction. He is in control. Complete control. I battle my need for escape and sink further into my surrender. He brings me so close, so very close, I am sure with one more thrust of his fingers, one more lick of his tongue, bite of his teeth, I’ll be there. But time and again he denies me.
“When I am sure I can take no more, he positions himself above me, holding me still while he thrusts inside. I am wet with wanting. I am lost to a need and hunger I have no hope of denying. I beg him for more and harder, but he covers my mouth and takes the option of using words away.
“I am left with only my body. My heart and soul are flying. My mind has long since abandoned me. The voices are gone, but I know they are in all reality still there. It doesn’t matter. He sees me. He knows what I want and he gives it to me.
“I shatter into a million pieces, the burn of the ropes and the dig of his fingers into my skin a counterpoint to the exquisite pleasure he wrings from my body. I am limp with exhaustion. I am nothing more than flesh and bones and breathlessness.
“I am safe and I am free.”
I’m not sure what to say. It’s not exactly vanilla, but it’s certainly not an answer I have received from any pet before either. But I know one thing. And right then, as I look at this beautiful creature contained for my viewing pleasure, I realise it is the most important thing of all.
I want to be her safety.
I want to be the man who sets this perfect, exquisite, self-possessed woman free.
I rise from the chair and take off my jacket, undo my tie. I say nothing until I am standing before her in just shirt, trousers, and socks.
Then I climb up onto the table and make my way behind her, my hand coming out and stilling her gentle swaying.
&nbs
p; “I’m going to fuck you now, Haydee,” I say, laying a soft kiss on the bare skin of her shoulder. She shudders. “I’m going to fuck you on my dining room table, while you hang from my chandelier. But make no mistake,” I say, slipping a finger into the crotch of her teddy and snapping the domes open.
She’s wet. Hips already angled for my taking.
“I will fuck you under the stars before this ends,” I add. “I will keep you safe and I will set you free.”
I thrust into her. No warning. No preamble.
The world distills down to just the tight feel of her hot, wet pussy. And nothing else.
Fuck! I don’t want this to end.
Chapter Five
“Don’t ask.”
I lose myself in her body. I lose all sense of time and space. Just soft skin, quiet moans, and panted breaths. I feel every thing. The stretch of her core as it accommodates my size, the rush of heated moisture as she takes each long stroke of my cock. The silky smoothness of her skin beneath my fingertips. The rapid pulse beneath my palm as it wraps around her neck, holding her still for my possession.
I am totally focused on her responses. The soft whimper when I thrust so far I reach the end of her. The gasp of breath when I change my angle and hit her G-spot. The rattle of the chain as she leans into each hard rock of my hips, meeting me, greeting me, matching me pound for pound.
She likes my hand on her neck, even though it is only sitting there, not exerting pressure. Its presence seems to calm her. When I remove it, gripping her hips to take her deep and hard, a small mewl of protest spills out of her lush lips. My hand returns to her neck immediately. She groans, her muscles gripping me tightly; a reward for giving her what she needs.
Her breaths are becoming uneven. I haven’t even really started yet and already she is falling.
“I’ll catch you,” I whisper in her ear, my voice low and rasping.
“Please, sir,” she begs and instantly receives a hard pinch of her nipple in reprimand. The sound she makes in response nearly undoes me.
“I don’t want to gag you, Haydee. But I will,” I say, slipping the hand that had cupped her neck up to her mouth, two fingers moving between her lips, thumb cupping her jaw. I tip her head back, so she sees her bound hands and the sway of the chandelier overhead. I hold her there as I take her body with unmerciful thrusts of my hips.
The table is rocking. Small squeaking and scuffling sounds as the legs shift on the wooden floorboards. Her breasts, small as they are, bounce up and down on her chest, the bodice having moved down, freeing their bounty completely. My balls slap against her thighs. Each time I thrust forward and feel them connect she moans, followed quickly by a tightening of her internal muscles.
She is so responsive. So hungry for pleasure. I pull my wet fingers from her mouth and touch her clit.
“Good girl,” I encourage. “You’re doing beautifully.”
Her head lolls on her shoulders, the muscles along her back flexing with the effort used to remain on her knees and not exert too much pressure on the chain wrapped around her wrists. The small jewels must be digging into her flesh, sharp stabs of pain which will radiate down her arms the longer this progresses.
She’s close. Her breathing has altered. Sweat glistens along sun kissed golden skin. A small keening sound has started up at the back of her throat. Her clit is hard to the touch, her folds swollen. Her back arches, threatening to do real damage to her wrists. I wrap my arm around her middle, directly under her breasts and take some of her weight. A sigh slips out between panting breaths.
She’s shaking, a tremble races through her body. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on. She feels too good. She reacts too perfectly. Seeing her arms held above her head with my chain is too erotic. Watching her breasts lift with every thrust is driving me crazy. Her wet centre feels like heaven. But my Haydee meeds more.
I reach around and place a finger and thumb on either side of her clit. The pinch is small, but the reaction is magnificent.
I have to stop thrusting when her body convulses. Her cries of release are high pitched and desperate. The tightening and relaxing of her muscles around my cock crumble my last defences. My hand wraps around her throat and I pull her back against my body. I tighten my hold, as the fingers of my free hand circle her clit, drawing the moment out for her sublimely. My cock thrusts three more times into her quivering centre.
My climax is almost as long as hers. I’m blinded for a moment. Floating. Lost. The only thing grounding me to this earth is the woman shaking in my arms. Her heated body flush against mine, the contours perfectly fitting my curves and edges. I stroke her throat tenderly; a thank you in that one simple touch. Then remove my hand from her neck, and watch her head fall forward in utter exhaustion.
I pull out, making her spasm around me as I retreat, and discard the condom I’d put on without even being aware of the action. Then I’m up on the table, undoing the chain from the chandelier, and lifting Haydee’s sated body up into my arms. My legs shake as I step down from the table’s surface. I have to lock my knees to stop myself from falling to the floor, my precious cargo along with me.
I take a deep breath as Haydee’s face falls into the crook of my neck, and then start walking from the room. The shower steams up almost immediately, I settle Haydee on a seat inside the stall, after removing her under garments, and stripping off the last of my clothes. Then join her under the spray. I lift her up, and take her seat, resettling her on my lap. Then start gently covering her still trembling body with liquid soap, washing the sweat and smell of sex away.
She is docile, compliant. A weak limbed body under my tender care. Within minutes I am hard for her again. Her head lifts up, drops of water clinging to her long, dark lashes, and she looks at me. I’m not sure what that look says.
“Are you all right?” I ask and she nods. “Your wrists?”
She lifts them up for me to see. Little dents mar her skin, but there is no blood. Relief washes through me, but then I remind myself I had been aware of the pressure that had been exerted at every single moment. The study of her reactions, both minute and awe inspiring, is second nature to me. At no time did I give her more than she could handle.
“You are beautiful,” I whisper. A compliment that I have given many women before in the past, but never so honestly. “Stunning,” I add.
I want her to talk. I want to hear her say similar words of praise in return. I am greedy for her affection, not just her body. I harden my resolve and turn my attention to her hair. The shampoo runs down between her breasts, pooling in the chain she still wears around her neck. I won’t let her remove it whilst in my presence. Not even in the shower.
She’s more awake now. Revived a little. As I lift the chain and wash beneath it, checking there is no injury around her neck that I may have missed, her eyes follow my every movement. Her nipples are hard. Her pulse is fluttering again at the base of her throat. Her lips are parted and I’m reminded of sinking my cock inside her mouth and coming down her throat.
She makes a sound. Somehow she’s seen my arousal. She would have felt it moments ago, but something has made her realise how close to the edge I actually am.
I move her, until her back is to my chest, her legs spread wide, knees over each of my thighs. I start to wash her breasts.
“I have a hard limit,” I say to the back of her neck, where the short cut of her hair allows me such delightfully unhindered access. I like her neck. It is long and elegant and begging for my hand to wrap around it.
My chain alone is not nearly enough.
“I will not share,” I add, bringing my teeth down on her shoulder. Nipping hard enough to let her know I mean business. “Do you accept?”
Her answer is long in coming. Then finally, one short shake of her head.
I am struck dumb. I hadn’t expected refusal. There have been others I have not wished to share, but none of their answers held such sway. I don’t know what to say in return. My hands have stilled
. My breaths are all but gone. I’m not sure, but I think my heartbeat is irregular.
“May I speak, master?” she says, shattering the stalled moment and making me wrap an instinctive hand around her throat, tipping her head back, face to the ceiling of the shower. The water is undoubtedly falling in her eyes, her mouth, but I can’t seem to release my hold of her.
This woman has stolen all reason.
“Speak,” I say, the word harsh and unforgiving.
“I will agree to your hard limit of not sharing me, if you allow me one more hard limit addition in return.”
The negotiation tactic surprises me. Her easy acquiesce the last time we discussed hard limits had me believing she was open to most things. To add another hard limit now makes little sense.
“What is your additional hard limit?” I say, my thumb stroking the side of her neck absently. The move letting me know I’d consider any hard limit this woman suggested just to stake my exclusive claim on her body.
“I will not share you either.”
All my breath rushes out of me in one quick expulsion. My heart beats so hard I can feel it inside my chest. I stroke my hand down her throat, allowing her head to tip back down, and then I’m lifting her up off my lap, positioning my cock at her entrance, and pulling her hard back down on top of me.
We both grunt with the sensations created. I’ve impaled her without even agreeing to her terms. I start thrusting my hips up, as I grip her waist on each side, fingers digging into flesh, and guide her up and down my already straining shaft.
“Take this as a yes,” I say between each hard pump up into her body.
“Oh,” she manages, and then moans loudly as my hand finds her nipple and pinches.
I don’t know where this is going with Haydee. I don’t know how long we can both sustain this type of desperate hunger. I don’t know anything but that I can’t get enough of her.
I fuck her hard. I want inside her body. I make her scream again and again and again, coming all over me in heated rushes and spasming muscles and gasping breaths. Her body falls forward, arms extended to hold her aloft on the other side of the shower stall. Water pours down over her back, splashes up into my face. Her hair is plastered to her head and she’s never looked more beautiful.
H.E.A.T. Book Bundle (H.E.A.T. Books 1-3) Page 71
